"Here Prada. Her-ee Prada," Jon sings lightly, shaking a bag of dog treats that cost more than his iPhone. "Where the fuck did you go little doggie?"
He exhales once, fighting off the approaching panic attack. If he doesn't have Lydia's dog when she gets back from giving a lecture at Yale, she'll cut his balls off. And while Jon hasn't recently used his balls for anything more than some well-deserved self-love, he really wants to keep them attached to his body.
He swings the flashlight brightening streaks of forest, dumpster, brick wall, and shrubs. "Pra-da. Who's the most fabulous dog ever?"
When he doesn't hear a response, Jon comes to the only reasonable conclusion: he is fucked. So very fucked.
Leaning against the side of the apartment building, the 24-year-old tries to calm his mind and think of a plan. He's not worried about Prada being hit by a car - the apartment complex is far enough away from downtown that there's almost no traffic at this time of night. But mountain lions will see the pomeranian as a tasty midnight snack. If he doesn't find that dog soon... he doesn't even want to think about what Lydia will do when she finds a cougar eat her puppy.
It's on the second exhale that Jon realizes he's staring into a neighbor's home: the impossibly hot guy in apartment four. According to the mailboxes out front, the tenant is David Smith. A basement apartment should offer more privacy - being underground and all - but without a curtain obscuring the view, Jon can see directly into the living room. The binds block some of the view but not enough to truly hinder the scene in front of him.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Jon scans the room for anything interesting. He's been lusting after the demi-god with perfect shoulders ever since moving into the building and if he can find something to talk about, maybe Jon will approach the guy next time they're both in the laundry room.
The thirst is real.
The man doesn't have a lot of furniture, just an octopus lamp on the lowest setting, a full bookcase, a weird painting, a black leather couch, a person on the couch. A person on the couch!
Jon rears back quickly. Did they see? Was he caught?
He should turn around, should keep searching for Prada... but... but maybe David is sleeping on his couch. Maybe Jon can get another peak without the cops being called.
He flicks the flashlight off - just in case any of the other tenants make a late-night trip to the dumpster, he doesn't want to be seen - and moving slowly and oh so carefully, Jon steps closer to the window. Peering past the blinds, Jon sees David relaxing on his couch, sprawled out, head thrown back, long expanse of neck completely visible.
Shirtless, David's wide, muscular chest is fully on display. His light brown nipples are hard as peaks and look so suckable. Jon can picture himself latching onto those tiny buds, bringing maximum pleasure to the man.
With his arms stretched along the couch's back, Jon can see every inch of skin. Following the ridge of muscle, Jon traces where leather meets arm to big hands and thick fingers clenching and unclenching erratically. Squinting and leaning slightly forward, Jon tries to figure out why his hands are moving weirdly. Bad dream?
Before Jon can get distracted in his own thoughts, movement in his peripheral vision distracts him. Looking sideways, Jon sees a mop of blond curls moving up and down in a controlled pattern.
Oh.
Oh, God.
Jon's breathing speeds up and his cock hardens at the realization. He's watching Smith get a blowjob.
Huge thighs opened wide allow ample space for the blond twink to cuddle in close to David's body, slotting perfectly into the V of where hips met leg. A sparse treasure trail ends at the thickest cock Jon has ever seen and he finds himself impressed someone can get the whole thing in their mouth.
The twink pulls back, letting the hard dick smack against David's toned stomach for a second before pale hands wrap around the base and a pink tongue licks the bulbous head. It's the most beautiful sight Jon has ever seen and would fit in perfectly with the Sean Cody porn he's illegally downloaded.
The blond swirls his tongue around the shaft and slowly slips down to the small patch of hair at the base, licking every inch. From there, he moves to lave at David's balls, popping one into his mouth. His slender hands haven't left David's dick, fingers a blur rapidly jacking off the monster cock.
Jon presses the heel of left hand on his growing erection. Fuck. He's going to be masturbating to this memory for the rest of his life.
The twink leans down more, tongue sliding from ball to taint before moving back to the base of the cock. Moving slowly, the man traces a throbbing vein up to the mushroom head before deepthroating the dick again.
Jon catches himself rubbing his crotch and god, he should stop...but fuck, just imagining having that dick in his mouth makes him see stars. The heavy weight forcing his tongue down as it pushes into his throat, gagging him. Pushing the palm of his hand down harder, Jon builds friction as he chases an orgasm.
He bites down on the knuckle of his right forefinger, trying to silence any gasps or moans. Jon has always been a vocal person but now is not the time. He closes his eyes and tilts his head up, lets his mind project what it would be like kneeling for David's pleasure; pictures the feel of large hands cradling his face, holding the back of his head. Can practically hear the grunts and groans Smith would make as he rams in, fucking Jon's face the way only a big-dicked man knows how.
Jon can't stop the moan that slips past his hand at the thought of David towering over him.
Panicked, Jon opens his eyes and looks back into the apartment where a pair of bright blue eyes have locked onto him. Shit. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Paralyzed by fear, Jon can only watch as David holds the twink's head against his crotch, stands, and turns 90 degrees, giving Jon an even better view of his cock. Smith smirks and then pulls the twink's head up and off his giant dick, a glob of saliva and precum dripping down the man's chin. Keeping eye contact with Jon, David draws his hips back slowly before thrusting forward, cock stretching the pale pink lips to their limit. Smith's grip tightens impossibly firmer and he starts to fuck the blond's face, rhythm increasing every second until his hips are moving fast, balls slapping against the twink's face.
Jon wants to move, wants to run away but he can't think anything beyond staring at the scene in front of him. His flagging erection flares back to life harder than anything Jon has ever felt before. He watches mesmerized as David continues to fuck harder and harder. Then, the man slams in, so deep that the blond's nose is buried into a thicket of dark curls, before going completely still.
There's a moment where no one moves before David starts to shake and Jon realizes that he's is cuming. Cuming down that twink's throat. He didn't even give the blond a chance to breathe before choking him with jizz.
